Oasiria Waterpark

Today Elena and I decided to treat ourselves to something you may not expect to find in the desert--a waterpark.

First we had to get there. The way you do that is by taking a free shuttle from Place El Harti to the waterpark. The problem is that our massive tourist map doesn't show a Place El Harti. We finally found a few Harti named places and surmised that the large square between the main post office and KFC is Place El Harti. So we showed up before 11 to wait for the 11 o'clock shuttle. We were looking around for some sort of definitive evidence that the place we were standing was, in fact, Place El Harti, but no such luck. I guess you just have to know. Anyway, we waited there and then the shuttle came by. We started running toward it since it was going past where we thought it should go. But it came around and we managed to board just in front of the post office.

We rode it to the waterpark. Then we went in. They charged us 180 dh each--that's a whopping $30 each. They asked if we wanted to pay 20 dh more for chaise lounges. No! Elena and I had a discussion on what to do about food. We knew there were restaurants there, but considered bringing food in. She said they didn't care and wouldn't check anyway. I thought they did care--because they want to rip us off for as much as possible. Well we got our answer. As we entered after getting our tickets, they stopped us and inspected the contents of our bag. Good thing we didn't buy anything on the way.

We changed and went to look around. It wasn't crowded at all. There were a few people but not many. We passed the store (which doesn't have stamps), Pizwich--a store with pizza and sandwiches, the Pirate Ship--a watery playground for kids, the Bellevue--the restaurant, a bridge over the Lazy River--a ring of water where you tube lazily along, and finally to the calm pool--where too much noise is forbidden.

We found a shady spot and started reading. Elena went into the pool. A bit later I entered the water in my usual wimpy gradual approach.

I had wondered what it would be like here. In Essaouira, the clothing expectations on the beach was to cover as much as possible. Moroccan women and girls aren't comfortable showing the world their sexy side. But in Oasiria, that fear is gone. Completely. The operative question becomes how little can they wear. Whew! After paying $60, I wanted to see some Hardbodies--after all, I know I have the BBD. And I wasn't disappointed. After a month of unsexiness, it was so nice to see legs, butts, hips, tummies, breasts, shoulders, etc.

After a while of reading, we got a tad hungry so we went over to Pizwich and got ourselves a pizza. It was only 45 dh or about US $6. It was OK--a good size for the both of us. While we ate, we saw a ton of people come in--the price drops 40 dh if you come after 2pm. Then after a Cornette--a frozen ice cream cone, it was time for some fun!

After all, what's a waterpark without water slides. They have the Camel--6 side by side slides that you can race with your friends on. Then there are the Boa, Anaconda, and Cobra--three slides that loop around each other and eventually dump you into the water. And finally, the Louka--a giant slide that ends in its own braking pool.

I did the Camel first. I went to the top and the guy blew his whistle. We all went. I quickly had to shut my eyes and hold my nose. I didn't know when it would end, no I kept pinching my nose. I got water up my nose anyway. But I came out and there was Elena laughing at me. She said I looked scared. I was, so I did it again with better results.

Next I went up to try the snakes. I tried the left one first and came out the left on the bottom. Fun but no fast. So I tried the right one next, and came out the middle hole. Hmmm....They threw my for a loop. ;-) So I went to the middle one--and that's the fast one. Weeeee!!! It was fun!

FInally, the time had arrived--I had to do the big Louka. So I went up. I finally got my turn and after the first drop, I lost control--I just had to shut my eyes and hold my nose as hard as possible. I came down ungracefully.

Now that I had done all of them--so it was time to encourage Elena. I told her about all the scary stuff--unexpected turns, water up my nose, uncontrollable speed, etc. So she was scared but I tell she was excited too. Finally after some time, she agreed to go up. We came down two of the snakes and as soon as she got out, she started to go back up to do it again. We went down a few more times. Elena wanted to learn how to do a perfect landing like some of the kids were doing where they don't even get their hair wet.

After the excitement, we decided to go back to the calm pool. After a little of that, back to the waterslides where we went down a couple more times. Then something interested unfolded before my eyes.

There were these two girls in skimpy black bikinis--long dark hair, gorgeously tanned skin. They met their two other friends--2 girls with nice bodies but less presence in colorful bikinis. They went into the shallow pool and started taking pictures of each other. The girls in the colorful were trying to take friend type pictures, but the girls in black were going for something more dramatic and sexy. Then the girls in black started lying on their backs while the other one stood over her and took pictures of her friend lying in the shallow water--like swimsuit models. I couldn't take my eyes off the spectacle. It was the most erotic thing I've seen in Morocco--though the purist might say that's true by definition because it was the only erotic thing I've seen in Morocco. In this terribly unsexy country, it was nice to see that some women still know how attract raw animal attention.

But it was getting late so we decided to go see something else. We found the wave pool. The shallow end of the wave pool has a "bar" which serves "drinks". As in water, soda, and juice. If they had even just beer, I wouldn't have needed the quotation marks. Oh well. The deep end of the wave pool had cool waves that really knock you around. It was a lot of fun.

Finally, we decided to head home on the free shuttle.

Well, easier said than done. The way the free shuttle works is that everyone waits for it and as soon as it appears, everyone runs to it in a free-for-all. It's mob rule at its worst to get on the 20 or so seats of the shuttle. The first one came, unlabeled and we tried and failed to get on. Then we found out that it goes to Place Jemaa-El-Fna and not Place El Harti. It wasn't labeled anywhere or anything. You just sort of had to know based on where the shuttle parked--not by any sign or anything--just sort of one shuttle bus length back from the place the Place El Harti shuttle let us out. So after the first shuttle left for Jemaa-El-Fna, we waited a while. Then the second shuttle came. And naturally there was a frenzied rush to the door. I got my arm stuck in a position where I first had to try to get my arm free. While I was doing that, Elena was trying to tell me to jump into the front seat. I did and she came after, but she didn't fit. Then it was too late for her to get in the back. The driver then told everyone who wasn't sitting to leave the bus as he couldn't drive that way. So they all got off.

At this point, Elena became angry. We had spent our waiting time brainstorming on how to improve the operation of the shuttle system and in just a few minutes came up with vastly superior methods to eliminate the incentive to a dangerous stampede. The fact that they were too lazy to figure out very simple methods to do so just made her more mad. She went over and started telling the guys who work there that their operation was flawed and what sorts of things they could do to fix it. One of the guys was friendly and listened to her and the other guy just sort of dismissed her ideas. Maybe some day. The thing that bothered me is that you don't know if you if you have a spot on the shuttle because the method to get a seat is barbarism. So you might wait a long time for the shuttle to come and then not get a seat. If they handed out little colored tickets--a number equal to the number of seats per shuttle and only let on people with the little tickets, there would not be a stampede. And you would know if you might as well take a taxi. After all, if someone is willing to pay 180 dh to go there, they are the sort of person who values their time. Systems in Morocco--indeed in all poor countries--aren't designed to minimize costs with the value of time being a factor. Rather, time is treated as if it has zero value. Anyway, I was proud of Elena, a logistics coordinator, for giving them a little lesson in logistics.